


nothing safe is worth the drive

by past piginawig (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, x factor era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/past%20piginawig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry feels transparent and like everything he’s feeling is written on his forehead for Louis to read – <i>you’re cute</i> and <i>I want to know you</i> and <i>I hope you feel whatever this is too</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing safe is worth the drive

Harry tries really very hard not to think about the blue eyed boy he met in the bathroom during boot camp. He’s got to be perfect in order to make it through to the judge’s houses, he’s got to remember every lyric and hit every note and pull off every move with nothing less than perfection if he wants even the smallest chance of continuing on this journey.

But.

But that stupid boy with his straightened hair and his bright smile and his pretty eyes that Harry’s own green pair met through the mirror seems to have taken hold of his brain and doesn’t intend on letting go anytime soon. It takes him almost five hours after their meeting (and it wasn’t even anything special – their eyes caught in the mirror, Harry, ever the awkward teenager, blushed and looked down while the other boy introduced himself, and then they shook their wet hands and Louis ( _Louis_ ) laughed and the sound rang out around them and that was it, he walked out of the bathroom and probably out of Harry’s life) to stop thinking about him constantly. He finally gets the image of him out of his head long enough to run through his song. He’s sitting outside at a table and the area around him is relatively empty, just three other contestants practicing their own songs and paying him no mind. But then another boy Harry had met earlier that day, Aiden, runs out of the building and ushers Harry in.

Harry follows him to a large group of people wrapped around a staircase, all singing loudly together. Harry finds a place in the crowd and joins in and then-

 _Louis_.

Louis is there, and their eyes are meeting again, and Harry feels his breath catch in his throat and his stomach drops and his heart pounds and he forgets what he’s singing. He can’t do anything but stare at this boy, who has a huge grin on his face, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Harry. Harry feels transparent and like everything he’s feeling is written on his forehead for Louis to read – _you’re cute_  and  _I want to know you_  and  _I hope you feel whatever this is too_.

It’s not long before the song is over and there are claps and cheers and pats on the back all around. The whole crowd is dispersing in every direction and Harry is stuck in the middle, eyes desperately searching for caramel colored fringe under a beanie and blue eyes, scanning faces as they rush around in excitement. By the time he can focus on anything around him, he’s alone in the stairwell.

*

Harry is sitting at a table in the hotel restaurant with Aiden, chatting to a blonde Irish boy named Niall who showed up out of nowhere and seems intent on knowing everyone, when he spots Louis across the room, stacking his plate with items from the buffet table.

Harry knows his cheeks are turning red; he can actually feel his face getting hotter by the second. Louis is by himself, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him much. Harry ignores the conversation between Aiden and Niall about the performances from the day at bootcamp and watches as Louis reaches the end of the buffet line and glances around the room, looking for a table. His eyes catch Harry’s almost instantly, and a knowing grin forms on his face. 

Harry isn’t sure where the confidence comes from, but he nods toward the empty seat at their table and Louis’ smile gets even wider as he makes his way over, plate in one hand and cup full of soda in the other.

“Hullo,” Harry greets when Louis is close enough to hear. It causes Aiden and Niall to look up from their conversation, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. 

Louis’ cheeks are a little pink and his eyes are downcast when he says, “Hey, I just-“

“Hey!” Niall’s voice cuts across Louis’ soft mumble, causing all three heads to whip in his direction. “Louis, yeah? Saw you this mornin’ rehearsing, you were good, mate!”

The blush on Louis’ face deepens but he smiles and keeps his eyes up.

“Um,” Harry says awkwardly, “sit?”

Aiden chuckles and Harry realizes his statement sounded more like a command so he quickly backtracks.

“Uh, I mean-“ he pauses and clears his throat, “if you want to.”

Louis grins and nods his head, setting his food and drink down and pulling the chair out.

“Ah, shit,” Niall groans almost immediately as a jingling sound fills the air. “Sorry, lads, Mum’s calling.”

 

He stands up, leaving his empty plate behind and putting his cell phone to his ear. Within seconds he’s out of the room.

“Wish I was Irish,” Aiden says wistfully. Harry’s eyebrows raise, but Louis nods in agreement. “Anyway, I’m done and knackered, so I’m off for the night. See you tomorrow, Harry. And-“

“Louis,” Louis answers, smiling softly. Aiden shakes his hand and leaves Harry and Louis (and Harry’s racing heart) to themselves. “So, I saw your performance today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you were really amazing,” Louis answers, picking up a chicken leg and biting into it. He swallows before continuing. “Like, you’re one of the ones that has to make it through, y’know? They’d be insane to cut you.”

Harry smiles back and shakes his head. “I dunno about that, mate. Surprised I’ve gotten this far, to be honest.”

Louis looks genuinely shocked at this and Harry loves it. “That’s crazy. You, Harry Styles, are going to be famous. In fact-“

He stops and reaches into his pocket, pulling out an old receipt and then jumping up from the table and rushing over to a waiter who seems to be more interested in his cell phone than actually waiting tables. Louis returns with a pen and hands it to Harry.

“I want your autograph, Harry Styles. Before you become a mega superstar, that is. I promise I won’t sell it on eBay for ridiculous amounts of cash.”

Harry laughs and shakes his head but writes his name in cursive with an extra curl at the end. He frowns at the signature thoughtfully. “I’ll have to work on that.”

Louis smiles and Harry notices the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. He decides very quickly to make Louis smile as much as possible.

*

Harry’s had friends before, had girlfriends and best friends all his life, but he’s never had someone like Louis before. He’s never had someone that just  _gets_  him in a way that he sometimes doesn’t even get himself. He’s never had someone that can look him in the eye and know what he’s thinking before he thinks it. He’s never been so on the same page as anyone in his life (and he’s sure he’ll never be this way with anyone else for the rest of it) and so it throws him for a loop when Louis mentions he’s got a girlfriend.

They’ve been put in a band together, he and Louis, with Niall and two other boys, Liam and Zayn. Not a single one of them had given it a second thought - go home alone or continue together. It was an easy choice, and when Louis jumped into Harry’s arms it only cemented to him that it was the right one.

And up until this point, when the five of them are camped out around a small campfire in Harry’s backyard, he and Louis had clicked and Harry felt like he’d known him forever. Felt like there were no secrets  between them after they had spent an entire seven hours talking in a hotel room about their lives the night they’d been grouped together. Harry knew Louis had mentioned Hannah, mentioned that his two best friends were Hannah and Stan, but Harry hadn’t realized one of those best friends filled another slot in Louis’ life as well.

Niall’s talking, about a girl he hooked up with the summer before, but Harry isn’t really listening, hasn’t been tuned in to the conversation since the words ‘ _my girlfriend Hannah_ ’ slipped from Louis’ lips. It evoked an odd reaction in Harry’s belly, the same he got for those few brief seconds that a roller coaster tips upside down. 

“Harry?”

Harry starts, eyes flicking over to Niall, who had said his name. “Hm?”

He hears Louis chuckle under his breath from his side and he looks over to see him biting his lip to keep the laugh in. Harry raises his eyebrows and Niall sighs from across the fire.

“We’re discussing past and current girlfriends; are you even listening at all?”

“Oh. Girlfriends? Uh, yeah,” he says, flustered. He can still hear Louis’ continued quiet giggling. “Yeah. Had girlfriends.”

Louis breaks then, loud laughter echoing through the night, and Harry feels his cheeks heat up. “Eloquent as ever, Harry.”

Harry pulls an arm out from beneath the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and leans over to shove Louis. Louis flails, falling out of his chair and into the grass, clenching onto Harry’s arm and taking him  down as well. There’s laughter from the other boys as Harry and Louis tangle together, tickling and grabbing and rolling and shouting and-

Harry’s just happy they aren’t talking about girls anymore.

*

Even though it’s still what Harry would consider a summer month, the air around him is nippy and he wishes he had thought to put some clothes on before slipping out onto the balcony. It’s been over six hours since he and the others found out they would be continuing on in the competition but for Harry it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. There’s a small part of him that’s already worrying about who would vote for them, who would vote for  _him_ , but he shoves those thoughts out of his mind and tightens his worn blanket around his shoulders, drawing his knees up to his chest.  
The night is quiet, nothing but the noises of crickets chirping surrounding him, and Harry loves it. Loves that he has this time to himself to think about everything- to think about Louis. Because as much as Harry is already taken by the older boy, he’s recently become confused by him as well. Because suddenly Louis won’t stop mentioning his girlfriend, suddenly Louis is joining in with Zayn and Niall while they check out bikini clad girls on the beach - and it’s thrown Harry for a loop, because of all the hours they’ve spent talking, one-on-one, Louis just didn’t seem the type.  
Harry had been inclined to believe that Louis didn’t have an interest in girls at all, something that made his own stomach flip with an anxiousness he never wanted to get rid of (because Harry’s spent the past year wondering himself - what’s so great about girls, anyway?), but now that theory seems to be thrown out the window, leaving Harry feeling a little hollow for reasons he isn’t ready to face just yet.

His musings are cut short when the sliding door of the balcony sounds. He glances back to see Louis, clad in nothing but sleep pants and glasses perched on his nose. He smiles at his new friend and lifts an arm, offering the space left in his chair beneath the blanket to Louis. Louis grins and silently sits, half on Harry’s lap.

Harry knows if this had been one of the other boys he wouldn’t have even thought to offer up part of the same chair. He can’t imagine sharing a blanket and personal space (especially when both parties were so scantily clad) with any of them just yet, but with Louis it feels natural. He hadn’t needed a second thought because it seemed the right thing to do.

“Can you believe we made it through?” Louis asks, his voice soft. Harry just shrugs. “Have you called everyone back home yet?”

“Just Mum,” Harry bites his lip. “I’ve got friends but… I don’t think I’ve really got _friends_ , you know?”

Louis snorts. “No, Curly, I have no idea. I called my mum, too. Talked to the girls. I was gonna call Stan after that but apparently he was already in my house raiding my pantry? I’m not quite sure I understand what he’s been doing while I’m away. At least I only had to make one call and not murder Mum with the phone bill.”

Harry immediately notices the lack of a certain phone call and wants to question it. He wants to, but he doesn’t know how far he’s allowed to push just yet. Louis just keeps talking, though, and doesn’t seem to notice Harry’s internal struggle.

“I figure Stan’ll call Hannah and everyone we’ve ever met and brag about it. Saves me a lot of talking, at least. I’d rather just chill, you know? This kind of feels like the last night of summer before school starts, yeah? Like the next step in our lives starts tomorrow when we leave here, leave fucking  _Spain_ like I can even believe we were here in the first place, and we’ll never be able to do this again.”

“Do what again?” Harry raises his eyebrow. “Cuddle half naked? Because maybe you haven’t gotten to know me well enough, but this is a common occurrence no matter where we are.”

It’s a lie and Harry knows it, but the thought of never being this close to Louis again seems like a terrifying one, and he doesn’t want to know why.

They fall into a comfortable silence. Louis picks at a fraying edge of the blanket with one hand and cards his fingers through Harry’s curls with the other. Finally, after a few moments of watching the black night sky, Louis breaks the silence with a sigh and then-

“Are you going to ask about Hannah?”

Harry furrows his brows and looks at Louis, who looks oddly desperate. Harry doesn’t say anything and Louis groans.

“Only, I’ve been really obvious and dropping hints and you just aren’t asking! I’m trying to figure out if that means you don’t care or if you don’t want to push or- what it could mean, I don’t know. But I’m kind of bursting to tell you, honestly. So,” he pauses awkwardly. “Could you please ask about Hannah?”

Harry’s only sixteen. He’s only sixteen and he hadn’t really had a big moment in his life until he auditioned for The X Factor. He didn’t realize it at the time, but meeting Louis was his second big moment (but he tries not to think about why it’s so big), and then being put in a band was his third. He knows making it to the live shows earlier was important, but he’s positive, that right now, on a balcony pressed against Louis (Louis, who is begging Harry to ask about his girlfriend with a pleading look in his eyes), is a huge moment. So he just whispers against Louis’ cheek (and when did they get quite so close?), “Tell me about Hannah, Lou.”

And Louis does.

He tells Harry about how they had been best friends, along with Stan, for years. How he’s always told her everything and how she knows him better than he knows himself sometimes.

“And she was supportive when I auditioned. And even more so when we got made into the group. When we went home for that week before we met at the bungalow, I sat and talked to her about everything. I’ve never thought about or talked about my future so much before. And she-” Louis stops and closes his eyes, pushes his face closer to Harry’s bare shoulder. “She offered to help me.”

Harry frowns. “Help with what, Lou?”

“It’s just-” And Louis sounds so scared and fragile that Harry finds his hand beneath the blanket and squeezes it between his own. “We’re a boyband and people have to vote for us. Who’s going to vote for us if there’s a-”

And Harry understands. And Louis chokes. He shoves his face into Harry’s shoulder, and his glasses are digging into Harry’s neck and the tears tickle on his skin but he just tightens his grip on Louis’ hand.

“No one’s gonna vote for the gay one, Harry.”

There’s no sounds except for the crickets and sniffles from Louis. And then Harry says, “‘s okay, Lou. I’d vote for you.”

It’s not much, but it’s enough to make Louis giggle. Harry feels a knot tighten in his chest and he ignores it.

Louis is quiet for a few seconds. Then he says, “Can we keep this between us for now?”

“Course,” Harry agrees, pulling Louis in closer and breathing in deeply. “You know, I-”

Harry feels his own throat close up. He’s never said anything about it before, he’s barely let himself  _think_  about it. But something about Louis makes him feel a little bit okay with it.

“I thought you didn’t, when we, before-” the words don’t make sense but Harry knows he needs to get this out there. “I didn’t think you were into…-”

“Girls,” Louis finishes for him, eyes glistening. Harry nods and clears his throat.

“Because I’m not-” he breathes in. “I don’t.”

Louis stares at him, and then wraps his warm arms around Harry’s neck and digs his nose into the junction where his neck and shoulder meet. 

“ _Harry_.” It’s only a whisper.

Harry swallows thickly. “I don’t think I can say it yet.”

He fights back tears and goosebumps when he feels cold, dry lips brush against his skin. “‘s okay.”

“Yeah?”

Louis sniffles again, and this time Harry does, too.

“Yeah,” Louis presses his lips against his neck again, and this time Harry can’t stop the shiver that travels up his spine. “‘s better than okay, Harry. ‘s really good.”

“Yeah?” Harry repeats. His voice is hoarse and his eyes are shut tight.

“Yeah.”

*

Harry’s not sure if he expected a dramatic shift in the way he and Louis interacted after their late night balcony confessions, but they don’t. They continue to take up each other’s personal space, Louis’ hands constantly running through Harry’s curls and Harry curling against Louis any chance he gets. The live shows are a blur of cameras and stage crew and lights and dancers and choreography, but Harry loves it. He gets nervous enough to be sick almost every week but Louis is always there to rub his back and play with his hair, and the joy he feels singing on live television is worth it.

The house all the contestants stay in is huge but crowded. Harry feels like he doesn’t have his own space anymore, can’t even get in a good wank in the shower without someone banging on the door and yelling that he’s taking too long. He’s cranky a lot and he knows he can be a little tense, but Louis seems to be able to read his moods and knows when he needs a hug or a cuddle or just a talk.

It’s terrifying but Harry knows what this thing with Louis is becoming. He’s had girlfriends but he’s never had a boyfriend. He’d hardly accepted that he was attracted to boys before Louis came barreling into his life and knocking everything upside down. He’s almost sure Louis knows it, too, can sense this something between them, but Louis doesn’t do anything about it. To be fair, Harry isn’t doing anything about it either, but he’s scared. There’s no fear of Louis rejecting him, just fear of what it would mean to take their relationship further. 

They’re in a band together, a band that has chances of going places, and a relationship between two of the members could ruin that. He knows he can’t do that to Niall, Liam, and Zayn. There are moments, though, like when Louis’ eyes meet his across the stage during rehearsals, that Harry knows without a doubt he’d give the world for Louis.

It’s scary, but Harry realizes in the car, squished next to Louis while their hands brush together, that it’s true.

*

Harry wakes up and knows something’s off. They’ve got rehearsals in the morning but he knows that’s quite a few hours off. He feels like he only just closed his eyes, and he tries to figure out what woke him up.

It’s Louis’ voice that alerts him to the second body in his bed. His heart jumps and Louis apologizes softly.

“Just scared me is all,” Harry says back, slowly setting his hand on Louis’ bare waist. He knows Louis has on pajama bottoms but he still has to fight the urge to tangle his bare legs between Louis’. “What’s wrong?”

Louis shrugs one shoulder and lets his head flop onto Harry’s pillow. They lay facing each other, and Louis’ hands are locked together, brushing Harry’s stomach.

“This is all really big, y’know?” Louis mumbles into the dark. Harry can tell he’s tired. “‘m just happy I’m not doing it alone.”

Louis’ eyes close and his body shifts closer to Harry’s. Harry is acutely aware of all the places their skin is touching and he has no idea how he’s going to fall asleep. Louis is warm against him and he’s buzzing with something he can’t name, and he can’t think straight but Louis is falling asleep on his pillow anyway. Harry shuts his eyes and drops his head down next to Louis’, close enough that their breath mingles together. He smells toothpaste and Louis’ awful grapefruit face wash and he can’t help but smile and try to ignore the butterflies in his tummy.

When he wakes up again, his leg is slotted between Louis’. They’re back-to-chest and Harry’s arm is draped over Louis’ side, their fingers tangled together. Harry noses the back of Louis’ neck and lets himself smile widely, and then he goes back to sleep.

*

“We’ve got almost an hour before we’re actually needed for anything,” Louis says with a grin. He grabs Harry’s hand and pulls as though Harry wouldn’t follow him to the ends of the earth. “Let’s go do dumb things, yeah?”

Harry laughs as they leave the room filled with the other contestants; the other boys are playing a video game, while Matt, Cher, and Rebecca all watched with varying levels of interest. No one pays them any mind as they enter the corridor and walk aimlessly, passing stage crew on their way.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a vending machine this way,” Louis says as they turn down a hallway that Harry’s positive he’s never been down. 

“Lou,” he says, “we’ve been here for like, nine weeks now. How can you not know where all the vending machines are?”

“Get your head out of your arse, Harold,” he tugs Harry down another hall, “I’m not a fiend.”

Harry has no idea what that means or where they are but the hallway is dimly lit and there’s no vending machine in sight.

“I think we’re going the wrong way,” Harry informs, eyebrows furrowed. He looks over at Louis, who’s leaned against the wall and looking pensive. “Hey, you okay?”

Louis shrugs and Harry steps closer.

“Were you really looking for a vending machine?”

Louis shakes his head. “Just needed to get away from everyone. Felt all crowded and busy.”

Harry nods in understanding and puts his hand on the wall next to Louis’ head. Louis’ eyes follow it and then fall back on his face. Harry’s never felt more vulnerable but he steps closer. There isn’t any thinking involved, he’s just doing what his body (his  _heart_ ) is telling him to. His eyes are roaming all over Louis’ face, drinking in the sharp cheekbones and the bright blue eyes and he notices the small hitch in his breathing, the way his eyes drop and he knows Louis’ looking at his lips.  
Suddenly, he’s never wanted something more in his life. Forget winning the competition, forget money and fame and performing, all Harry wants is Louis, and he’s moving closer until-

“Boys!”

They spring apart, matching blushes staining their cheeks.

“What are you doing over here? They want you for a show walk-through,” the stage hand says, gesturing for them to follow. Harry steps back first, walking slowly after the man, and when he turns back to look at Louis, he’s smiling.

*

That night, every look between them is charged with electricity, flowing through their veins and drumming in their ears. Harry’s positive it’s their best performance yet, the energy level brought to a decibel they’ve never reached before, their voices blending smoothly and every moment in sync. As soon as the show is finished they’re rushed backstage and out of the building, into a black SUV that takes them back to the house. Louis plops himself next to Harry and Harry can’t focus on the other boys, their voices like a white noise as his whole being centers around the places Louis is touching him (their thighs, the sides of their feet, their shoulders, their pinkies, their arms).

It’s a mad dash into the house for best pick of dinner but Harry’s makeup, the foundation that the makeup artist slathered on, is itching a bit, making him feel greasy and uncomfortable, so he locks eyes with Louis before heading up the stairs. 

He’s not surprised when Louis opens the bathroom door behind him and propels himself on the counter, watching as Harry steals a makeup removing moist towelette from Cher’s collection. He starts scrubbing at his face and Louis tuts, hopping off the counter and grabbing Harry by the shoulders, spinning him until his back is against the counter and he’s facing Louis.

“You might scrub your skin straight off the way you’re going at it,” he informs, snatching the towelette from Harry’s hand and grabbing Harry’s cheek. “Easy does it.” And, holding Harry’s head in place, he begins softly swiping at the caked on makeup, both boys snorting laughs when the white material ends up orange. “Oompa Loompa,” Louis mumbles softly, and Harry raises his eyes, meeting Louis’.  
There’s a moment of quiet, when Louis stops cleaning Harry’s face and brings his tongue out to moisten his lips. A moment when Harry knows he’s flushing, knows Louis can feel it with his hand, how hot his face has become, and doesn’t care. A moment when Louis’ eyes are hooded and, for a fraction of a second, they drop for the second time to look at Harry’s lips.

The hand with the towelette drops onto the counter and stays there. Harry’s eyes follow the movement and he feels rather then sees Louis’ other hand leave his cheek and properly enclose him. His hands, hanging limply at his sides, move before he can think about it, barely fitting around Louis’ hips. Harry can feel Louis moving closer, can feel the way more and more of their bodies are touching with every moment, and he’s so fucking ready for it, choking out a barely-there “ _Lou_ ,”-

But a banging on the door knocks them out of their reverie, followed by Niall’s voice shouting at them to come downstairs before all the food is gone.

Louis and Harry’s hands both drop, breaths labored between them, and Louis turns on his heel and leaves the bathroom.

*

They’re in the finals. 

They’re in the finals and Harry doesn’t think before he throws his arms around Louis and digs his nose into his neck, pressing a laugh into his skin.

“We made it,” he hears in his ear, and Louis squeezes him tighter, “We fucking  _made_  it.”

Harry can tell there’s more to the statement than the finals, but they’re being ushered offstage and Louis isn’t letting go of Harry long enough for him to really think.

Once the five boys are settled in the car, Zayn announces that Rebecca and Matt invited them all to a local club to celebrate. Niall and Liam cheer, still buzzing with electric energy. Harry looks to his side, at Louis, their eyes locking and Harry’s heart pounding.

“Think we’re going to stay in, boys,” Louis says, not looking away from Harry. A hand locks onto his and he looks down to see Louis’ fingers tangled with his own. He looks back up and the nervous smile on Louis’ face is the best thing he’s ever seen in his life.

The ride to the house is a short twenty minutes, but Harry feels the minutes drag through him, his hand fidgeting in Louis’, legs bouncing against the seat. He’s trying to pay attention to the conversation between Niall and Zayn but suddenly hot breath is at his ear and Louis’ whisper of, “ _almost there_ ,” insures that he won’t be able to focus on anything.

Louis has the door of the SUV thrown open even before the car is completely stopped, and he doesn’t let go of Harry’s hand as he runs to the front door. Harry can’t fight the giddy giggles that spill from his mouth and his stomach pleasantly twists as he hears the same sounds leave Louis’ mouth. There aren’t words between them as Louis pulls them up the stairs and to the shared One Direction bedroom, but as soon as the door is closed Harry’s being pressed up against it, Louis’ body flush against his own.

“Waited so long for this,” is all Louis says before finally pressing his lips against Harry’s. Harry wastes no time, separating his lips and allowing Louis’ tongue to slip through, sliding his own against it and shivering at the quiet moan that rises in Louis’ throat. He can feel the hot pulse of Louis’ cock through his trousers and his own is answering, hardening in his pants and pressing against his zipper, and Louis’ lips move on from his mouth and down his cheek, jaw, chin, neck, sucking on a spot that has Harry bucking his hips. “Bed,” Louis whispers, and Harry can’t do anything but nod.

They stumble a bit, trying to get to the bed in one piece, but finally land with Louis’ back pressed to the mattress and Harry hovering above him. Louis immediately flips them, letting his hands run through curls and not bothering to hold himself up. Harry can’t complain about the weight because all he feels is the hard line of Louis’ cock pressing against him, the way Louis is circling his hips and creating the most wonderful friction and Harry is absolutely positive he’s not going to last with the way Louis’ biting at the skin of his jaw, nipping his way up to his ear.

“Not going to be long,” Louis mutters in his ear before bringing his lips back to Harry’s and molding their lips together before licking back into his mouth. He jabs his tongue in quickly, the wet heat causing a shudder to roll down Harry’s body, his hips rutting against Louis’. 

“ _Lou,_ ” his voice is wrecked and his eyes clench shut as he comes, and he chokes when he feels Louis do the same, hears his own name on Louis’ lips. Their breathing is labored and it’s the only sound Harry can hear apart from his heartbeat until Louis rolls off of him and onto his side. It’s when he notices just how sticky his pants are. “Ugh,” he groans, “Messy.”

Louis snorts a laugh, covering his face with his hands and then looking back at Harry. “I’ll make sure to get us out of our clothes next time.”

Harry grins, biting his lip and he knows his cheek is dimpling but  _next time_ , so he leans forward and presses a soft and quick kiss to Louis’ lips. When he pulls back, the corners of Louis’ eyes are crinkled and he knows that Louis’ feeling whatever this is, too.


End file.
